


justified bitching

by orphan_account



Category: Political RPF, Political RPF - US 21st c., Real Person Fiction
Genre: F/M, Frustration, Office Sex, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 06:10:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11202072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Why aren’t you in the meeting?” she asks.“Solidarity with my fellow senator,” Martin says. He pauses a second. “Also, it was going to be so boring in there without you.”





	justified bitching

“Can you believe this?” Kamala huffs. She shakes her head. “I mean, come on, it’s the middle of the night – we have things to do.”

Martin considers her words for a moment. “Kamala, it’s barely evening. It’s not even mid-afternoon in California.”

She rolls her eyes. “That’s beside the point,” she says. “The actual point is that Rogers should’ve just told us in the open session whatever he’s going to tell us right now.”

“You don’t think he has something legitimate to share with us?”

She turns her head and gives him a look. “You think he does?”

They walk together, side by side, and they’re about nearing the SCIF when, all of a sudden, Richard exits and heads right toward her.

“Kamala,” he says. “I remembered a little too late that texts take ages to send in there.”

“Why are you sending me a text?” Kamala asks, brow furrowed. “Fuck, I’m not the one who has to go with the aides to get dinner, am I? I could’ve sworn it was Marco’s turn.”

“I thought we stopped letting him go when he forgot to bring guac on the side,” Martin says.

She’s just about to comment on that when her phone buzzes with whatever text Richard meant to send.  _Rogers doesn’t want you in the meeting._

Wait, what? “Wait,  _what_?”

Martin leans over her shoulder to read the message while Richard looks at her and grits his teeth. “Well,” he says, slowly, “he mentioned that he was very, er, unsettled by your conduct during the hearing last week...”

“Unsettled? By  _my_  conduct?” Kamala scoffs. “He’s the head of the NSA, he’s a goddamn admiral, and he’s afraid of a fucking junior senator?”

“Please don’t fuss too loudly,” Richard says, raising his hands in what he must assume is a placating gesture. “There are cameras around.”

“You know what, _fine_ ,” she snaps, “I _won’t_ go to this meeting and I _won’t_ justifiably complain about this to the press.” She turns to Martin. “Let me know if anything important happens, all right?” She doesn’t wait for a response, already walking down the way she came. Her heels echo loudly and she clenches her fists with each step, trying not to swear under her breath.

And then, she hears something - faster footfalls catching up to her until Martin puts his hand on her shoulder. “Hey,” he says, all casual and smooth.

Kamala raises a brow. “Why aren’t you in the meeting?” she asks.

“Solidarity with my fellow senator,” Martin says. He pauses a second. “Also, it was going to be so boring in there without you.”

She can’t resist a slight chuckle as she rolls her eyes. “You’d rather be out here and not bored than in there asking questions but without entertainment?”

He shrugs. “Wouldn’t you?”

“No,” she says. “I’d rather be in there handing Rogers his ass.”

Martin stifles a slight laugh, shaking his head. “Well,” he says, “would you settle for some wine and bitching in my office instead?”

Kamala taps her chin with her finger, considering. “Yeah,” she nods after a moment. “Yeah, that sounds like a fucking good idea.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Martin has two glasses in his desk and a nice vintage hidden by a bookcase. “Because none of my aides read,” he explains as he pours out her drink. “Or, well, if they do, I sure as hell haven’t seen them doing it.”

“Sometimes I feel the same way. Though, less about aides and more about senators,” Kamala says, and she drains the glass before he even has time to fill his.

“God, I know what you mean,” he laughs slightly. “Especially if I have to sit down and have a discussion with Cotton or Risch.”

“Aw, fuck,” she groans, making a face, “Risch is the fucking worst.” She takes the bottle and refills her drink. “Remember that whole shit with the ‘hoping’ or whatever?”

He nearly snorts into his drink, shaking his head. “We might as well skip his and all the Republican questions for tomorrow with what we’re going to learn from them.”

Kamala knocks back her drink and wipes her mouth, licking away a slight droplet on the corner of her mouth. “They’re all partisan as shit. Or at least, they sure as hell look like it.”

“They do,” Martin agrees. He watches her for a few moments as she pours out yet another glass of wine, before clearing his throat. “You’re drinking a rather lot, huh?”

She blinks, looking down at what she’s doing, and her body seems to catch up with her brain. She sets the wine down and shakes her head. “Fuck,” she says, a slight chuckle to her tone, “I didn’t even realize. Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine,” Martin says quickly. He clears his throat again and a light flush settles on his features. “I mean, we’re all pretty stressed. And you’re going through more than any of the rest of us are.”

“Damn straight,” Kamala agrees. She takes a slower sip of wine this time, bringing the glass to her lips and letting the taste soak in her mouth for a few moments before swallowing it back.

Martin’s still watching her, and she’s not sure if he even realizes it. “You do this often?” he asks. “Drink to relax, I mean.”

“No, not really,” she shrugs. “Mostly I subscribe to the Nancy Pelosi method of relaxation.”

At that, he raises both brows and gives her a blank stare. “What the hell is that?”

The corners of her mouth quirk. “You really want to know?”

He hesitates, just a moment, and then nods.

Kamala bites back a laugh. She takes another sip and sets the glass down on the table with a heavy thud, before leaning over and kissing him. He’s only shocked for a fraction of a second and recovers nicely, his hands carding through her hair as his mouth opens up and sucks on her lower lip.

She smiles, just barely, as he grabs her waist and pulls her over even closer. His hands make quick work of her blouse and then they’re running over her bra, barely touching the skin underneath.

“You know how to unclasp a bra without looking, right?” she asks when they pull apart.

“I’m not nearly as dumb as I look,” he says. He reaches over and slides his hands across her sides, wrapping his arms around her and fiddling around a little until he’s pushing off her clothes and trailing his lips down her chest.

Turns out he’s pretty good at this, Kamala thinks. A lot better than she’d expected. She tips her head back as he sucks on one of her nipples, pinching ever so slightly with his teeth while a hand moves up her thigh. She adjusts their position a little, back pressed against the armrest, and slowly moves her legs.

“How about you take that mouth of yours and put it somewhere else, huh?” she says, breath already a little shallow.

Martin seems to take the hint and he lifts his head up, revealing the slightly dazed and doe-eyed look he has going on, one she finds pretty fucking endearing. She hikes up her skirt and he pulls down her underwear and then there he is, mouth on her cunt as he starts eating her out.

His tongue flicks at her clit and one of his hands settle on the side of her thigh while the other teases around, rubbing her labia and circling her hole before finally sliding in two of his fingers. They move in fast and pull out slow, spreading with ease given how fucking wet she is and how fucking ready she is for this. She curls her toes in anticipation when his tongue curls and she’s pretty sure she’s going to come when –

When he lifts his head and says, “Oh my god, I’ve got condoms in my wallet.”

“Martin,” Kamala says, face straight, “if your mouth wasn’t sticky with my cum, I’d kiss you.” She thinks about it for a moment. “You know what, I might kiss you anyway.”

His laugh is light and brief as he digs into his pants. He tosses his wallet aside once he’s got the condom and it’s not long before he’s gripping her waist and letting out a low moan as he slowly presses inside of her.

She’s sitting up, arms around his shoulders and moaning in his ear and he sucks a bruise into the side of her neck until her body tenses and her vision briefly blurs when she comes. Martin keeps fucking her for a little while after, hard and loose and digging his nails into her sides, before he throws his head back and sighs.

They sit like that for a couple of seconds, catching their breath, and then Kamala reaches over and finishes her wine. Martin nearly falls over with how hard he starts laughing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He catches up with her as they’re headed to the closed session, her face set and glaring daggers into the backs of McCain and Richard, and she doesn’t even notice Martin standing next to her until he clears his throat.

“It’s not right,” he says, “what they did to you. What they keep doing to you.”

“I’ll give you three guesses as to why they pull shit like this,” Kamala replies smoothly. “And all three are just as likely to be the reasons.”

Martin nods slowly, hesitating for a brief second. “Do you… want to relax after this?” he finally asks.

She doesn’t even need to think about her answer. “Fuck yeah I do,” she says. She turns her head toward him. “And yeah, I know what you mean.”

He chuckles a little and nods, and they walk in sync to the SCIF. After this meeting, after the shit her Republican committee members pulled, she’ll definitely need to relax.

**Author's Note:**

> In Sessions' hearing yesterday, Burr said that "almost" all the senators were there at a closed session with Admiral Rogers about what he wouldn't say in his testimony last week.
> 
> So, yeah. That was the whole premise.


End file.
